


i will be your sword and shield

by pettigrace



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anchors, Anger, Best Friends, Canon Compliant, Dragons, Friendship, Gen, Injury, POV Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Relationship Study, Scott is a Good Friend, Werewolf Pain-Relief Magic, bc you can pry this form my cold dead hands: sciles are each other's anchors, but seriously read their relationship however you want bc I surely wrote it like everything, thank you very much, that rhymed I truly am a God, you can read them as besties as brothers as soulmates as lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:12:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pettigrace/pseuds/pettigrace
Summary: Scott and Stiles go to investigate a new supernatural coming to Beacon.





	i will be your sword and shield

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ruxian](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruxian/gifts).



> Written for Rux after they prompted it by sending me the title! I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Special thanks to my love Leon who beta'd it for me <3

“Are you sure you want to go on your own?”, Deaton asks calmly.

In return, Scott frowns at him. Then he looks over to Stiles, who seems just as confused. He’s stopped in the motion piling the books they had flipped through in the search of information - apparently, the people wreaking havoc in the outskirts of Beacon Hills were dragon-hybrids. Scott supposed he shouldn’t be surprised that something like that exists, considering how much he’s seen in his time as a werewolf, but he’s a little in awe, if he’s honest. From what they’ve read only old ones, those who are already halfway turned into stone like their kind does instead of just dying, can spew fire as some sort of self-defense, so they should be fine. The destruction left behind by these people is enough proof for them being young ones.

It goes without question that Stiles goes to check it out with him - they’ve always stuck together, neither of them leaving the other behind in almost any situation, and ever since the nogitsune that had only become stronger. It’s not like either of them does it on purpose, but Scott can say of himself it’s like he’s drawn to him even more. Not in the need of protecting him but because he couldn’t stand losing him again, in any way.

Besides, of the two of them, Stiles had been the one obsessed with dragons back in elementary school - along with Theo, which had spawned their friendship in the first place - so it only makes sense he goes there. Honestly, Scott’s only there because he’s the alpha and representing the biggest flock of supernaturals in their location.

“Oh yeah,” Stiles says casually, “they must be inexperienced, from what we’ve seen, and probably overwhelmed by themselves. I think we can handle them easily, right Scotty?”

Scott nods firmly next to him. And even if they have more experience than they assume, he’s come to learn that every stranger is at least _surprised_ when he flashes his red eyes, whether they know what it means or not. It would make them stop at least.

Deaton presses his lips together, almost as if he was disappointed by something, but he doesn’t say anything. It takes a moment but then he lets out a sigh and takes the books away and back into his shelves.

When Scott raises his eyebrows at Stiles, asking for an explanation, the other just lifts his shoulders. He can’t blame him, though, there’s rarely a day where deaton truly tells them everything that’s going on in his mind - something that Stiles has complained to him a lot of times. Right now, though, Scott feels like whatever bothers Deaton isn’t really connected to what they’re about to face. He can’t quite explain why he thinks so, but the way he’s looked at _Stiles_ …

“Anything else we should expect?”, Stiles says then, shaking him out of his thoughts. He sounds serious as he asks, but a bit excited as well. Yeah, _dragons_.

Deaton looks over at them and what he’d been thinking before must have vanished from his mind. Now he’s all casual, almost bored even. “Just mind their strength.”, he answers, looking at Scott more than Stiles.

“Alright.”

It’s obvious there won’t be any more to come, so it’s as good as a send-off. They turn around almost simultaneously to leave the room, taking only the small sack of coins on the table with them. Books and plans won’t help them, especially not when they literally only have to put some gold and silver coins into an abandoned place - because apparently, dragons (and their hybrids) are able to smell that. And Deaton just so happened to have pure valuable materials lying around; which should have a greater effect than any of the jewelry that could lie around in all of Beacon Hills.

“What do you think, when will we get a vampire?”, Stiles wants to know as they walk up to his jeep, already pulling open the driver’s door. He continues as they climb in. “I mean, should’ve thought about that before, right?”

“Yeah, werewolves and vampires aren’t that far off,” Scott agrees. “Maybe we’re the reason they aren’t showing up, though.”

“Right,” Stiles nods firmly, pointing at him before finally turning on the engine. “Natural enemies and all that.”

Scott doesn’t miss the way disappointment tints his words and teasingly says, “You’re not becoming a vampire, man.” With all the difference in actual werewolves and their mythical equivalents, he can imagine that there’s a gap between real vampires and fictional ones as well - maybe the transformation isn’t all that bad and maybe he wouldn’t be actually _dead_. Still…

Stiles scoffs. “Wouldn’t want to anyway.”, he tells him. “Not if it’s mean I couldn’t stand you.”

“Yeah, because that would _totally_ keep us apart.”, Scott answers, rolling his eyes a little. Seriously, if his mom doesn’t manage to make them stay away from each other - he remembers the many times Stiles has snuck into his room when he was grounded - then he doesn’t think anyone or anything can.

He joins Stiles’ laughter that follows.

 

-

 

“I hate waiting,” Stiles announces via the walkie-talkie they found in the depths of his wardrobe - a remainder of playing detective as kids.

Scott sighs. “I know.” Of course he does, Stiles is a way too active guy for stake-outs. Plus, he kinda hates it, too. If only he were there with him, closer to the abandoned shack they’d found; then they’d at least be sitting there together. Generally speaking, though, he isn’t even sure if Stiles’s idea makes that much sense - there’s no way that with the amount of time he spends around supernatural beings of all kinds, and especially werewolves, he wouldn’t smell like any of them. But he insisted they’d be able to sense Scott right away and avoid their trap then, so now Stiles is hiding in the bushes in front of the hut and Scott’s a few miles away, seated in the jeep. “You think they’d come even if they smell _you_?”

Now Stiles laughs softly. “They’re strong _dragons_ , dude. Why’d they be scared of a scrawny human?”

“Got a point.”, Scott admits. “So, anything happening?”

“Nope,” Stiles pops the p. “Everything’s dead. There’s not even any insects or something. Is that a sign?”

Scott draws his brows together. “I don’t know, Deaton didn’t say anything about that. But, like, animals can usually sense danger--”

“Yeah, alright, there’s something,” Stiles cuts in. There’s some tension in his voice and Scott can practically see how he sits up in anticipation. “Someone’s coming here, and they’re… well, not the fastest I’ve ever seen but--”

“Stay where you are,” Scott orders, jumping out of the jeep. It’ll go faster if he runs - and more quiet, too. If he took Roscoe there, he could also come in with sirens blasting; it’d have the same effect.

“Just gonna look if they’re actually going inside,” Stiles answers in a low mumble. Scott can hear the grass as he moves through it and he prays shortly that the dragon hybrid can’t hear as well as a wolf.

“ _Nothing more_ ,” Scott grinds out. “I’ll be there in two minutes.” He doesn’t wait for Stiles’ answer but starts running - he knows him too well to think for a second he’ll actually stay put.

 

-

 

In fact, when he arrives at the hut, Stiles is already crouching in front of one of the windows, trying to look through the small opening in the wood it was nailed shut with. He’s holding onto the sill with his fingers, practically clawing into it while still trying to make himself small. It looks quite awkward.

Still, Stiles more observant than he should probably be - or maybe not. He’s the son of a sheriff after all and the investigative side of him has been the most active ever since Scott’s gotten to know him. He’s attentive enough to keep his eyes on sight without being startled by Scott’s appearance. He doesn’t even do so much as tense when Scott puts a hand on his shoulder.

“One person, female I’d say based on appearance,” Stiles whispers, tilting his head towards him a little. “She’s still searching for the stones.”

Scott knees down next to him, trying to score a look of his own inside. The woman doesn’t look much older than them, her long blonde hair flipping as she moves through the room in quick steps, shoving things to the side and opening drawers. She doesn’t seem to realize any time soon that there are vents in the wall.

“Gotta say, I expected more scales.”

Out of reflex, Scott shoves against his shoulder. Though, actually, he’s a little disappointed, too. From what he’s seen, she looks just like any other human being - but then again, so does he until he shifts. Maybe it’s the same for her. In general, the number of beings they’d encountered that _always_ look like… well, like supernaturals, is pretty small.

“Let’s go inside before it’s too late,” he prompts. He doesn’t want to imagine what Deaton would do if they lost his stones for real. Where does a vet and hobby-druid (or, more accurately, the other way around) get stuff like that?

Stiles nods, mouth tightly shut all of sudden as he picks up his baseball bat. Scott probably shouldn’t surprised that he took it with him, but he hadn’t seen him take it out of the car earlier - he can’t hide a small grin upon seeing it. Yet another of the few constants in their lives.

There’s no need for words between the two of them. They’ve always been a unit, mastering in middle school how to communicate with mere looks (and granted, ‘stop’ and ‘go’ in a situation like this is way easier than ‘do you have the answer to question number five section d’ back in the day), so he doesn’t need to say that _he_ ’s going in first. Which should have been clear anyway - he’s the one with claws.

Stiles rolls his eyes in return, but let’s him open the door gently. They step in quickly, closing the door again so the woman won’t get out before they can stop her. Scott can’t recall Deaton having said anything about speed.

In the meantime, Stiles rounds the table in the middle of the room, bat ready in his hands.

They’re unlucky; that’s the explanation. Just as Scott pushes himself away from the door, there’s a sound from outside - a crow flying off with a yell. It’s loud enough to startle all of them, especially the dragon lady who flips around at once.

She didn’t expect either of them, eyes growing wide when she sees Stiles. Things happen all at once then, Scott barely able to watch everything at once. In one second Stiles is lifting his arms in a calming gesture, opening his mouth to talk to her - explain that they mean no harm, and in the next she’s charging at him, teeth baring and fingers looking more like claws than his own.

And then, before Scott can move, she finally _jumps_ against Stiles, feet first as she flings him against the next wall.

Everyone - really, _everyone_ , from Derek to Peter over Chris to Deaton - has told him that the bond between an alpha and a beta is stronger than anything. That they’re dependent on one another; especially the beta - Liam - on the alpha - him. And it’s true, to some degree. Scott can sense him over wider lengths than others, whether it’s his scent, his chemosignals or sometimes even his voice. At certain points even the mere presence of the younger would keep him grounded, as if he were some light kind of anchor to him - and Scott supposes that, in a way, he is. It’s a reminder that every decision he makes does not just fall back on him, but on his pack as well.

But if it’s so strong, the connection between alpha and beta, how is it possible that he’s never felt like he was ripped apart when Liam got hurt? That it wasn’t just anxiety spreading his body or adrenaline, like during any fight, but worry so big that it burns a hole through his chest?

Scott doesn’t even really _see_ , doesn’t want to look at Stiles‘ lifeless figure on the ground so in the moment that his eyes found it he already forced them away again. His blood is boiling as he lets his gaze take in the room, dangerously calm out of sudden, searching for the - and suddenly it’s the only word that makes sense - monster that attacked his best friend, a human with nothing to protect himself with except for intelligence and a baseball bat.

A growl escapes his lips as he turns towards her, anger flooding through his veins along with the blood. It buzzes under his skin and he can feel his face changing but right now he doesn’t _care_.

In fact, it’s for the better that he changes into his wolf form, he _wants_ her to be scared of him. He finds her in front of one of the windows, the one farthest away from him, trying to claw her way through the wood. She’s hectic as she works, like she’s panicking.

Wise of her.

Scott feels like he’s moving too slowly; each step takes too long and feels like slow-motion compared to his breathing. He can feel the grin forming, has no power over it, when he sees the way her face has changed - mouth sticking out more so that it almost builds a unit with the nose, blue-ish scales slowly appearing in the skin around it and _so_ unfitting to the utterly hysterical expression written into her grey eyes. There’s a small barking laughter mixed into his growl as he approaches her.

And then - as soon as the anger had come, it’s gone again. All it takes is Stiles’ voice, a bit drowsy but otherwise clear as the day to Scott’s ears.

“Geez, you know, that’s exactly what we wanted to talk to you about,” he starts. Scott can hear the limp as he walks up to him, but otherwise there’s nothing - not even blood. Stiles looks ahead at the dragon as he comes closer, finally putting a hand on Scott’s shoulder. “You can’t just toss around-- Oh my God, you _do_ have scales!”, he practically screeches.

He’s _definitely_ alright, Scott figures and lets out a deep breath. He suddenly feels so… _normal_ again, he has to fight the urge to close his eyes and fully indulge in the feeling. Instead, he watches as the woman looks from him to Stiles and back again, her face looking more and more confused as Scott transforms back.

He has to keep himself from laughing at her dumbfounded look.

 

-

 

Stiles is still giddy when they’re leaving the shack. They’ve explained things to the dragon-girl - Arya, she introduced herself once she wasn’t as confused any more -, told her that they’d laid out this trap to talk to her and make sure she knows her boundaries. And with the effect Scott’s alpha mode had had on her before, it hasn’t taken too long for her to understand. Apparently fighting the urge to find the treasure isn’t that easy to fight, but she’s promised to work on that.

A sign of good will was that she didn’t try to attack them again as Stiles pulled the sack out of its hiding spot but remained calm (though Scott’s still wondering why exactly he hasn’t waited with that until she was gone). And she was patient about the questions that he began rattling off right away, though she did ignore the _really_ personal ones - honestly, Scott’s glad she didn’t smack him around again.

They parted amicably then, though Arya didn’t seem like she’d visit again any time soon. Scott supposes the whole encounter was more overwhelming to her than to either of them.

“You know what I just realized?”, Stiles suddenly says, catching his arm, “There must be _actual_ dragons, too! Though, how do they even-- with humans?”

Scott doesn’t concentrate on his words so much as on the way his walk is still uneven and the smell of adrenaline slowly fading and being replaced by… “Stiles.”, he says decidedly, stopping to walk. “Lemme see your leg.”

“What? No, I’m fine.”, Stiles insists right away - a little too fast. It means his mind has been focused on the limp already, so he _is_ actually aware of it. He even tries to dodge Scott’s hand when he reaches out for him, but he’s not fast enough. As his pain buzzes through his veins and into Scott’s, he pouts. “Hey! Shouldn’t you, like, wait for my consent or--”

Scott cuts him off with a single look. “Why’d _you_ go first?”

He watches Stiles closely, the way he pulls his lip between his teeth as if he has to think about what to answer. Scott knows him well enough to tell he’s trying of a way to _not_ explain it. “She was a _dragon_ , dude.” Ah, so he’s trying to take that road.

“ _Yeah_ ,” Scott says. He can play along for the moment. “Which should have told you enough about how she could have been _dangerous_.”

Stiles shrugs. “I just scared her.” Now he pulls his hand away again and quietly admits, “Thanks.”

“No problem. I’m just saying, you could have gotten _really_ hurt.”, Scott tells him. “Or _worse_. For a second I thought--”

“I _saw_. Dude, what even was that?” Stiles interrupts him with big eyes. He doesn’t look scared or anything, but rather like he’s worried for _him_. Scott wants to laugh at the irony. “You, like, pulled a Liam there. That’s not good.”

Now, Scott finally scoffs. Stiles is probably the most intelligent guy he knows, how can he not understand this? Sure, he’s not all that good at social interaction but this is about _him_ \- about _them_. That’s something that’s never been difficult. “Might have been caused by my best friend deciding to not give a shit about what I told him to do.”

“I didn’t want you to get hurt!”, Stiles spats then. “You always go in first, trying to be all nice and then everything’s going to hell--”

“So you thought it was better for _you_ to go inside? You’re _human_ , Stiles!” He understands his need to help, really he does - he remembers all the times they’d talked about that, when Stiles was willing to confess that insecurity. But why doesn’t he understand there are better ways to do that? Ways that don’t get him killed? “Tell me, what would I have done if she did worse to you? I lost myself for a moment there because she _pushed_ you!”

He counts the seconds that Stiles just stares at him, completely speechless. Ten, Eleven, Twelve-- And then, suddenly, he bursts into laughter. “You’d think we’re bad at protecting ourselves, but we’re worse when it comes to one another.”

He’s right, actually, and even if Scott doesn’t like that at all, he finds himself losing his own contenance. From one second to the other, he’s laughing along, slipping more and more into it. With everything going on, they have little reason to burst out like this, which only makes it more logical that they do so now. And that Scott feels his throat clog up way earlier than it used to, tears filling his eyes.

“If you give me another heart attack like this, I’ll kill you.”, he finally presses out between deep breaths.

Stiles laughs once more. “That’s counterproductive, dude.”

“I don’t care.”, Scott says honestly. He’ll manage to get it into Stiles’ head that there are things he can do and others he should let the people with accelerated healing and strength do. “I love you, man.”

Stiles doesn’t miss a beat in replying. “You too.”

**Author's Note:**

>  **Please leave a comment!**  
>  If you liked this, come check out my [tumblr](http://joanthangroff.tumblr.com) or talk to me on [twitter](http://twitter.com/Ll4MDUNBAR).


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